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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25923823">A Toast to the Dead</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/taxicab12/pseuds/taxicab12'>taxicab12</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>more to me than you can dream [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Established Relationship, Lots of alcohol, M/M, Pre-Canon, but the kind that’s kinda funny, other things you should expect from Booker, the consequences of immortality</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:08:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>580</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25923823</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/taxicab12/pseuds/taxicab12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastien said almost nothing to Nicholas for the first two weeks after it happened. He hardly spoke at all, just locking himself in his room and drinking himself into oblivion.</p><p>Nicholas was sure he must have died from alcohol poisoning at least once.</p><p>“At least come drink in some company,” he said, carefully removing any hint of a request. “I have vodka.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Booker | Sebastien le Livre &amp; Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>more to me than you can dream [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>301</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Toast to the Dead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sebastien said almost nothing to Nicholas for the first two weeks after it happened. He hardly spoke at all, just locking himself in his room and drinking himself into oblivion.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicholas was sure he must have died from alcohol poisoning at least once.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">“How is he?” Joseph, </span> <em> <span class="s3">his</span> </em> <span class="s2"> Yusuf, asked, shouldering a bag on his way out the door.</span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I will watch him,” Nicholas said, kissing his cheek. “Go.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Joseph pulled him into a full kiss then left, the door shutting quietly behind him.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicholas knocked on Sebastien’s door. “At least come drink in some company.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Fuck you,” he said.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Come,” he said, carefully removing any hint of a request. “I have vodka.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">...</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It was truly a miracle that the alcohol was enough to last them two hours straight of silent drinking.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">Seeing Sebastien drunk wasn’t exactly a novelty when the man spent most of his time at least a little drunk. But Nicholas wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him this drunk. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d ever </span> <em> <span class="s3">been</span> </em> <span class="s2"> this drunk, and that was in well over seven hundred years of life.</span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I have no one now,” Sebastien said finally, an empty bottle falling from his fingers and rattling on the ground.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">You have us, Nicholas thought but didn’t say.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“It will fade,” he said, too drunk to realize how cruel his tone was.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m just supposed to forget?” He scowled. “Forget my family?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">They both took a long sip.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m sorry,” Nicholas said.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Did you forget yours?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He closed his eyes, as if it would help his memory. “I had... a sister, I think. Parents. I went to the church very young. No one really to forget.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sebastien laughed, but it was cold and without humor. “I suppose you can’t lose those you love if you love no one.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicholas didn’t correct him, but he turned away.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">Sebastien noticed this, putting down the bottle he drank from. “Do you love </span> <em> <span class="s3">him</span></em><span class="s2">?”</span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">They had never discussed this, not in all the years Sebastien had been with them. It was not a secret, not hidden in any way, but he and Joseph knew that men of Sebastien’s time weren’t exactly enlightened when it came to matters of the heart. Better, it seemed, to just avoid discussing it.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicholas, however, was too drunk to have these inhibitions. “I do. More than anything.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Then you’re lucky to love someone who can’t die. The rest of us suffer.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I have watched him die. Again and again and again. It hurts every time.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Fuck you,” Sebastien said, then burst into tears. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicholas pulled him into an awkward side hug, awkward only because Sebastien fought him all the way. “We survive. It’s what we’re good at. You will survive.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Fuck you,” he said again, but it didn’t carry any malice.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicholas opened a new bottle. “What should we drink to?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Dying,” Sebastien said. “Here’s to dying soon.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He didn’t argue, just took a long drink.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">...</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Andromache was the one to find them, passed out drunk surrounded by a truly impressive number of bottles of liquor. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“What is it?” Joseph asked, a dozen steps behind, sensing her silence. “Oh wow.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Careful, glass shards,” she said, pointing. “What happened?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Nicolò said he would coax him out of his room,” Joseph said with a shrug.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Andromache snorted, studying her sleeping friends.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The way they sat, Sebastien snoring, his head leaned on Nicholas’ shoulder, both men still clutching a bottle, was almost sweet.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">If nothing else, it was very funny.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Love how this whole movie wouldn’t even exist if Booker had just gone to therapy or something</p></blockquote></div></div>
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